


Chance

by firstbreaths



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstbreaths/pseuds/firstbreaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a lot of things he’s unsure of lately, from his continued future at Dalton to exactly how Finn managed to figure out Kurt and Blaine were dating before he’d mentioned it, but one thing Kurt knows – he isn’t about to let Karofsky ruin what, in a twisted sense of irony, the jerk allowed to become his. Or: Kurt's thoughts during the Night of Neglect concert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance

Skimming through the flimsy piece of paper that Mr. Schue is obviously trying to pass off a program, Kurt settles in for the second act. There's this feeling of _pride_ that shoots through him as he realises his best friend has earnt the solo that she's been denied for too long, but there's also this feeling of relief -– finally, they're guaranteed a quality act.

Kurt's been a fan of Mike's dancing for as long as he can remember, but this is meant to be a concert. As for Tina, he loves her, and honestly –- that's what made her emotional breakdown so _awkward_. That, and the fact that he'd had to explain to Blaine that yes, being taunted by their own peers like this is a common occurrence. Even before the Warblers, he'd known that the McKinley glee club were never going to be a textbook example when it came to high school show choirs, but it's been a while since he's seen them so disjointed.

He rests his head on Blaine's shoulder now, clapping loudly along with his boyfriend and resisting the urge to lean in closer. It's got nothing to do with Karofsky, because there's no way he'd be caught dead in the auditorium, no matter how much his presence would add a little more weight to Azimio's ridiculous attempts at heckling. Running into him was awful, yes, but it's also the sort of thing that, as boyfriends, they're always going to chance. And, there's a lot of things he's unsure of lately, from his continued future at Dalton to exactly how Finn managed to figure out Kurt and Blaine were dating before he'd mentioned it, but one thing Kurt knows – he isn't about to let Karofsky ruin what, in a twisted sense of irony, the jerk allowed to become _his_.

Because the other thing he knows -– he's completely and utterly in love with Blaine Anderson. And he's pretty sure that, as luck would have it, Blaine Anderson is at least somewhat in love with him.

That's what makes it difficult, partially. There's this constant _want_ that builds up inside him constantly, lately, a twisted coil of rope that unfurls in his stomach, the heat spreading from his core, out to his cheeks, his hands, his _groin_. Yeah. Ladies and gentleman, Kurt Hummel -– he's got it bad. He knows that, should he allow himself to relax for just a second, fisting a hand into Blaine's hair, capturing his lips in even the most chaste of kisses, things would kind of just _escalate_ from there.

Honestly, he doubts his friends would mind them macking (Santana's expression, not his, but tonight isn't the first time he's realised how much she's grown on him) at the back of the auditorium as long as he deigned to shower them with unbridled praise after the show. Sure, Finn would probably cover his eyes with an awkward laugh, and someone would make the inevitable comparison to his short-lived relationship with Brittany, but mostly, they'd be supportive. Azimio aside, the ghosts of Kurt's past are entirely too existent in this theatre for them to say anything else.

It's days like this that Mr. Schue's apparent obsession with thejourney theme resonates most deeply with him, a reminding that while Blaine might be his story's ending, almost two years of unapologetic homophobia mark its beginning. Karofsky's remarks tonight served only to further highlight the disparity between Dalton and McKinley -– there's no way, after all, that the Warblers would ever struggle to sell more than six tickets to a show.

It's kind of ridiculous, actually, the amount of times he's pictured this scenario, right down to Quinn's knowing smile and the hideous animal emblazoned across Rachel's chest. But, as he forces himself to remember, this isn't his night. If he'd planned on spending the better part of an hour with his boyfriend's mouth pressed up against his, Blaine's hands fitting perfectly into the curve of his jaw as Blaine steadies him, guiding his lips to places they both _really_ want them to go, he would have saved himself the twenty dollars and picked a venue where Sandy Ryerson was firmly out of sight.

He ignores the bit where Blaine snapping at him was completely and utterly embarrassing, but also kind of hot. Because Sandy Ryerson may be a perverted creep, but thoughts like that -– are definitely not helping.

Here's the thing, though: Kurt would have made it his night, once, jumping up and down with Mercedes, letting out a squeal that makes him wonder how she ever doubted he was gay, leaning slightly into awkward backslaps from Mike and Puck and, just to be on the safe side, steering Blaine firmly away from Sam. He would have dragged Blaine backstage after the show, saying _this is my boyfriend_ but really meaning _look, guys, I'm happy agai_ _n._ Because he is - absolutely one-hundred percent happy, for the first time in a long, long while. And, if Kurt has his way, he'll have forever to be with Blaine, tucked neatly into the side of his body, touching him, kissing him, and more -– things he's not entirely sure he can think about right here, right now, with tears in his eyes as Mercedes brings down the house. But, if there's one thing he remembers about being with New Directions, it's that sense of living on borrowed time, like every performance, every moment, is their last chance.

Kurt's had his last chance already, and it's gifted him Blaine. The least he can do is allow the music to give his friends hope that someday, they can find something as wonderful as he has too.

So, for now, he settles his head into the crook of his boyfriend's neck, laughing as one of Blaine's loosening curls tickles his cheek, and smiles. Mercedes solo is proof, perhaps, that there's a good chance things can only go onwards and upwards from here.


End file.
